


hang on past the last exit

by pensiveVisionary (hamburr)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fantrolls, Other, Oviposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5598358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamburr/pseuds/pensiveVisionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jadebloods have an important job to do.</p><p>Not everyone wants that job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hang on past the last exit

**Author's Note:**

> was thinking about a few different things i've read, mashed up a bunch of headcanons with my own and threw my fantrolls (and an unspecified maryam) in it, and then this happened.

There are forty-seven of you; thirty-nine girls, three boys, four neither, all jade, all naked.

It's not you who is chosen to go first, it's a girl, last name Maryam, just like the current Matriarch, just like the one before her and the one before her. You wonder if she offered. Maybe she didn't. Maybe they just expected it of her. She looks scared. She is visibly shaking, wringing her hands, as she steps forward, away from the rest of you. You wish you didn't have to watch. She sits; the platform is at the back of the mothergrub, in perfect view of all of you. She puts her feet in the stirrups--she looks so vulnerable, it's horrifying--you're just thankful you don't have a straight shot of her nook, that would be too much--and you look away from her, look at the mothergrub instead. You can see the ovipositor come out, and you glance back at Maryam's face in time to see her flinch, hard. Definitely scared.  
You don't want to be unprepared when it's your turn, so you watch the next part, as impartially as possible. Everyone is dead silent, and you can all hear her draw a sharp breath when it presses into her.  
You stare at the floor again, then glance at your comrades. You'll all have to go through this, in the next few hours. It's the jadeblood's birthright, their prerogative.  
You wish it wasn't yours.

You've never met a jadeblood without a serious kink for this sort of thing, not disincluding yourself, and you're understanding why, now. The worst-kept secret of the brooding caverns is, as part of the process, you have to carry the eggs. Maybe you're bred to be turned on by it, maybe it makes it easier. Doesn't feel easier to you. Maybe worse, actually. You're scared and apprehensive and uncomfortably turned on, and you wish this was not happening right now, or ever.  
Maryam's not exactly popular, an awkward shy kid and a stellar student and a bit of a kiss-ass, plus there's the name to carry on, but you glance around at the others and you can see more jade-green bulges than you ever wanted to in your life. You're just grateful no one's allowed to get off before they... yeah.  
Five awful minutes later, you see her get up on shaky legs out of the corner of your eye. You try not to stare at her. She staggers towards the ledge where the three adults are sitting. One of them gives her a blanket, and guides her to sit, a ways away from the adults. She wraps the blanket around herself tightly, covering herself, and sits.

"Koenig," is the next name that is called.

That's you.

You're shaking as you walk. You feel forty-nine sets of eyes on your back.  
You wish this wasn't you. You wish you hadn't been born with jade blood in your veins.  
You sit, where Maryam was just sitting, put your feet where hers were.  
You squeeze your eyes shut, hands clenching into fists so hard your claws dig into your palm. You might be bleeding. Why. Why. Why this, why. Your bulge is lashing, you don't even know when it unsheathed, and you feel the ovipositor nudge at you, then push into you--hard, unyielding--and you have to try not to sob. This is, without a doubt, the worst thing that has ever happened to you.

It gets worse.

You've seen the eggs before, outside of a body, they're about the size of an eyeball when the mothergrub lays them, then grow to be a little bigger than that, but you never gave serious, actual thought to what that would feel like when it's being laid in you.  
It's the most awful thing you've ever felt, and yet your body is reacting like it's the best.  
You lose count after eight, your head is spinning too much. Your hormones are going absolutely fucking nuts.  
You wish you weren't about to have an orgasm in front of forty-six of your cohort and three adults, but it happened to Maryam too--that makes you feel a little less bad--but you are, and you do, fighting it the whole way to stay quiet, to not moan or cry out or, worst of all, sob.

When it's over, you're done, and you haul yourself to your feet. Your center of gravity is way off, and you stumble. Your body aches. You manage to walk a straight line to the adults, get your blanket, and sit down next to Maryam, a respectable foot of space between the two of you. Your whole body is shaking.  
"Are you okay?" she asks softly. You shake your head no. "Me either," she says quietly.  
"Do you have a moirail you get to go home to?" you ask her. She nods. "That's good."  
"Do you?"  
"Kind of," you say, more honestly than you've been to anyone about what Averan actually is to you. "Close enough. He'll take care of me."  
"That's good," she says back. 

You fall silent, staring at the ground. You realize you're absently running your hand over your abdomen, and yank it away, pull the blanket tighter around yourself.  
"Do we have to sit here through all of this?" you mutter.  
"No, there should be a medic arriving soon to check us over and make sure we're okay to leave. Then we can go."  
Just as she says that, a tall adult jadeblood walks into the room, walks up to the two of you. They pull out some device and scan Maryam. She gets a nod of approval, and then so do you.  
"Take it easy, no sex, no blackrom shenanigans, no roughhousing period, please be gentle with yourselves, and eat healthy. Report back in a week's time for another check and some further education. Gestation time is one perigee, as you know, and if you are experiencing any unusual symptoms, please report here immediately." They hand you each a brochure with more information, and wave you out in time for the next shaky jadeblood to arrive.  
You are each given a few sets of clothes, loose shirts and pants, and you go into the changing room.

"I wish this wasn't the expectation for my life," Maryam says, stepping into the pants. "I don't want to do this ever again."  
You bend down to pull up your pants, and feel the eggs shift inside you. Your whole body shudders involuntarily.  
"Me either, god, fuck, this is so fucked up," you say, straightening more slowly than you leaned down so that doesn't happen again, at least not as badly. "I'm sure there's more trolls that would be willing than jades, and some of us are so not comfortable with this, and I wanna get off-planet the first fucking second I can."  
"Me too," she says.  
"One or two a cohort get to go on the General's ship--with the virgin mothergrub, yknow? to take care of it as it matures?--and I'm just. I. I will literally suck bulges for that job if I have to, I don't give a fuck, I need it. I don't want to ever do this again."  
"We're the top two in the class, you know. They were doing that in order. We could do whatever the fuck we wanted, they'd have to let us."  
"You're a Maryam," you say. "Aren't they going to make you be the next Matriarch?"  
"Not if I don't want it," she says, "and if you don't either, the third in our class is more than capable. They'll take what we want into account, I've spoken with the Matriarch and she respects my wishes. I can get you on board, too," she says. She has a light in her eyes you've never seen before. "They'll want trolls with talent taking care of the virgin grub. This one's reaching the end of her lifespan."  
"Please," you say. "Please."  
"You don't even have to suck a bulge!" she says, and sticks her tongue out at you, which surprises you, and you surprise yourself more by laughing. She smiles.

"Where are you headed? I'll walk with you if it's on my way," she says.  
"Just up the road. Where are you headed?"  
"The city. To my moirail's," she says.  
"Oh, the city," you say, raising your eyebrows at her. That means a warmblood. "Do I know them?"  
She shrugs, and you don't press.  
You walk together, making idle chat, the plotting gone for now. You're sure it's not the end of it, though.  
"I'll see you next week," you say, as you approach your hive.  
"See you next week," she says, with a conspiratorial grin. You grin back, and enter your hive.

**Author's Note:**

> "i hope we hang on past the last exit  
> i hope it's already too late
> 
> and i hope the junkyard a few blocks from here  
> someday burns down  
> and i hope the rising black smoke carries me far away  
> and i never come back to this town again  
> in my life"  
> - _[no children](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wRP6egIEABk)_ , the mountain goats


End file.
